RiverGirl Fishing Company

09/10/2026

"We had never been river tubing before, so we weren’t quite sure what to expect—but WOW, we are SO glad we chose RiverGirl! 🤩🌊 From start to finish, the entire experience was absolutely amazing. The staff was incredibly friendly, helpful, and welcoming, and they made the whole day so much fun and completely stress-free!

The river was beautiful, the atmosphere was perfect, and we had such a fun time making memories.." says Express on Google

★★★★★ We had never been river tubing before, so we weren’t quite sure what to expect—but WOW, we are SO glad we chose RiverGirl! 🤩🌊 From start to finish, the entire experience was absolutely amazing. The staff was incredibly friendly, helpful, and welcoming, and they made the who...

09/10/2026

Long before RiverGirl had a shop, a fleet of boats, a Mr. Potato Head river gauge, mushroom workshops, river brunches, sunrise floats, full moon floats and an alarming number of things that somehow require a trailer…there was Kelly.

The original RiverGirl.

She’s the one who started taking people fishing and paddling these waters, who built a business around simply wanting to share her passion with…well…everyone! The idea that getting outside could change somebody’s day and who has spent the years since quietly teaching people to look a little closer. At the trout. At the bugs under the rocks. At the changing water. At the trees. At the things most of us walk past without noticing.

She can teach you to cast a fly, identify what the trout are eating, back a trailer into places no trailer has any business going, fix something with whatever happens to be lying around, and calmly remind you that “rocks mean pause and look around” while the rest of us are considerably less calm about the rocks.

Twenty seasons of RiverGirl have Kelly’s fingerprints all over them.

But those of us who know her know RiverGirl is only one piece of her. She is endlessly curious. Fiercely loyal. Happiest outside. Usually building, fixing, planting, fishing, dreaming up the next project or disappearing because she saw something interesting and wandered off to investigate it.

And somehow, after all these years, she still gets genuinely excited when somebody catches their first fish or tears up when a little kid tells her today was their best day ever.

That may be my favorite thing about her. Her unapologetic passion for life and her drive to share it with the world.

So today, help us wish a very Happy Birthday to the woman who started this whole strange, wonderful river adventure.

The OG.
The GOAT.
The Real McCoy.
The RiverGirl.

Happy Birthday, Kelly.

09/08/2026

Stop. Rewind. Reconnect.

We spend a whole lot of time moving forward.

What's next?
Where do we need to be?
What still needs doing?

And somewhere along the way, we forget to stop and actually be where we are.

So this Wednesday, stop.

Stop thinking about tomorrow for a little while.
Stop checking the clock.
Stop worrying about the things that can wait until morning.

Rewind.

Back to the friend you haven't had a real conversation with lately.
Back to the person sitting beside you instead of the phone in your hand.
Back to that feeling of having nowhere you need to be and nothing you need to accomplish.

Maybe even rewind all the way back to yourself.

And then reconnect.

With a good friend.
With a quiet evening.
With the river.
With the simple reminder that not every moment has to be productive to be worthwhile.

That's what Wind Down Wednesday is about.

A couple of hours. A kayak. A quiet stretch of river. A chance to leave the noise on shore and let yourself slow down for a minute.

Stop. Rewind. Reconnect.

Wind Down Wednesday
Wednesday at 5:24pm
$25 per person
Reservations required. 828-434-6435 (text or call)

Sometimes the best way to move forward is to stop for a minute, rewind a little, and reconnect with what matters.

09/06/2026

Rivergirl Sunshine Sunday

This Labor Day weekend marks the last busy weekend of our season, and if you’ve followed along this year, you already know the river has asked us to be extraordinarily flexible. We started with drought, moved into summer storms, went back to drought, then suddenly found ourselves reaching for sweatshirts in temperatures that felt more October than August. Sprinkled between it all have been some amazingly perfect river days. There have also been more “We are closed today” posts than we would ever choose to make.

Yesterday was supposed to be one of the big ones.

We had a packed day ahead of us, rain forecasted for around 6pm, and only two staff helping us negotiate hundreds of moving pieces. So we did what we do. We made a plan. Boats & tubes were prepped. Reservations organized. Timing worked out. Everyone knew where they needed to be and how we were going to keep the day flowing smoothly.

And then a storm cell popped up. Half the day had to be canceled.

Canceling river trips is never simply pressing a button and saying, “Sorry, weather.” You’re looking into the faces of people who arrived excited for an afternoon of fun, relaxation and making river memories with the people they love, and you have to be the person who tells them those plans have changed. Then come the little huddles as families regroup and compare schedules. Can we wait it out? Can we come tomorrow? Should we take the rain credit and come back next year? Then there are the people already on the river who need to be reached, the equipment prepared the day before for hundreds of guests that now has to be gathered and put away, and the staff who had arrived ready and eager for a packed day suddenly moving with something closer to dejection.

Yet they keep moving. Because that is part of this job. We go with the flow. We do it safely. We stay calm. We hope for another day.

There is a particular weight that comes with being responsible for someone else’s experience. Anyone who has spent their working life taking care of people probably knows it. Sometimes your job is to quietly hold someone else’s disappointment while setting your own aside. You listen. You explain. You offer alternatives. You absorb frustration that isn’t really directed at you at all, but at the situation. And because you understand why they are disappointed, you give them room to feel it. What you don’t always notice is where all of those little moments go after you’ve carried them for everyone else.

Eventually everyone left. And for a little while, it was just me closing out the shop.

That’s when the floodgates opened. Completely unexpectedly, I cried.

Not because of one canceled afternoon. Not because I was sitting there replaying everything that had gone wrong this season. It wasn’t wallowing, weakness, self-pity or even sadness in the way we normally think of sadness.

My body was simply done holding everything.

The drought. The storms. The decisions. The responsibility. The constant recalculating. The physical work. The emotional work. The people looking to you for an answer when sometimes the only honest answer is, “I don’t know yet.” The intensity of an entire season spent trying to remain the calm at the center of whatever weather, problem or unexpected turn arrived next.

Being the calm at the center of a storm can be deceptive. Because calm doesn’t mean nothing is happening inside. Sometimes it means you’ve been holding everything steady until there is finally somewhere safe enough to put it down.

So I did. For however long my body needed, I let it all pour out. And when it was over, I wasn’t empty. I was simply fine. I closed the shop and went home.

There I found people I love standing in the kitchen making a Mexican dinner completely from scratch. There was laughter. There were potatoes, mushrooms, cactus, guacamole, cotija and handmade corn tortillas. Food passed between loving hands. Stories bounced across the room. Nothing needed solving. Nobody needed an answer from me.

And somewhere between bites, a quiet little voice inside whispered: “It’s going to be okay. This is why you do it.”

And maybe that was the part I needed to remember most.

So much of what we do here is about creating space for other people to make memories with the people they love. We spend our days helping someone else relax, reconnect, celebrate, explore, laugh, or simply disappear into the river for a little while. Yesterday reminded me that responsibility has weight precisely because it is attached to something we care about. Family has weight. Community has weight. Leadership has weight. Small business has weight. The work we choose to love often asks something of us in return.

Sometimes that weight becomes exhausting. And sometimes, when the day is over, the people we love quietly remind us why we keep picking it back up.

So this Sunshine Sunday, I’m grateful for the release as much as I am for the resilience.

For the people who keep moving when the plan changes. For a staff willing to gather boats & tubes instead of launching them. For customers who understand that sometimes loving the river means respecting what the sky is telling us. For the strange strength that allows us to hold things together when they need holding.

And also for the wisdom of finally letting go when they don’t.

Most of all, I’m grateful that after a season spent giving people places to make memories with the people they love, I came home and remembered that I get to make some too. Around a table. With handmade tortillas. And people who love me.

The river will flow again. So will we.

What do you keep showing up for, even when it exhausts you, because somewhere beneath the weight there is love?

09/03/2026

BRUSH THE BURN: A YAKISUGI WORK PARTY

High Country friends, makers, curious humans, and anyone who likes learning something new with their hands, we could use a little help.

We’re in the middle of a new Rivergirl expansion project, and the boards have already been charred using yakisugi, the traditional Japanese method of preserving wood with fire.

Now comes the next step: wire brushing the charred surface to bring out the grain, texture, and character of the wood.

So we’re making a party out of it.

Come learn the process, grab a brush, lend a hand, and help us move one very interesting project a little closer to finished.

No experience necessary.

- Hands-on yakisugi experience
- Plenty of boards to brush
- Food provided
- Beverages provided
- Good company strongly suspected 😂

- Friday September 11th
- 10am till ? It’s a party!!! Who sets an end time ??
- Location: Revealed to confirmed participants!!

Come for a little while or stay as long as you’d like.

And what exactly are we building?

We’ll save that reveal for later.

For now, let’s just say Rivergirl is growing beyond the riverbank.

Interested? Comment below or send us a message for details.

09/02/2026

Well, y'all, Wednesday is here again! 💙
And you know what that means... it's almost time to Wind Down!
There's still time to trade that long workday for fresh air, easy water, and a little time letting the river carry the week right on downstream. 🛶

The water's running a little low today, so were changing things up and heading to a different stretch of river for tonight's Wind Down. But that's alright with us! Around here, we learned a long time ago that the river gets to have a say in the plans! 😂

So come out, leave the workday behind, and join us for an evening on the water. We'll be here waiting to help you slow down, breathe deep, and enjoy a little midweek river time.

Reservations ARE required for this event, so book your spot by reaching out to Renata directly at 828-434-6435. ($25/person)

The river is waiting, and we'll see y'all out there! 💙

08/31/2026

Sometimes a song starts with a melody. Sometimes it starts with cows in the road. 😂

Tomorrow we release Listening to Fall, and before we do, I wanted to share the story behind one of the songs, “Grass Is Greener.”

It started with a conversation between my dear friend Denise Hamilton and me about something anyone who regularly travels Highway 194 around here has probably experienced at least once: cows and lounging dogs in the road.

We laughed about it. The traffic backed up. The farmer waving his arms. The cows standing there completely unconcerned with the line of increasingly bewildered humans waiting for them to make a decision. And, inevitably, the livestock guardian dogs arriving to make sure everyone understood whose road this actually was. Cause the fact remains a lot of our mountain roads run through the farms that keep us rockin’ n rollin’.

Somewhere in that conversation came the joke: Well, apparently the grass really IS greener on the other side.

And just like that, we had a song.

But somewhere between the little calf discovering the weak spot in the fence and the grown cows standing in the middle of 194 seemingly unsure which pasture they wanted after all, the joke became something else.

Because maybe we do that too.

We spend an awful lot of our lives looking through the fence. Thinking the job over there is better. The house over there. The relationship. The opportunity. The life somebody else appears to be living. We convince ourselves that if we could just get to the other side, something would finally be different.

And sometimes we get there.

Only to turn around and wonder whether the pasture we left was pretty green too.

So yes, “Grass Is Greener” is absolutely a song about Black Angus blocking Highway 194. 😂 But tucked underneath the fiddle, brake lights, escaped calves and barking Great Pyrenees is a little reminder “Before you crawl through the fence, make sure it’s actually the grass you’re chasing.”

Here are the lyrics to “Grass Is Greener,” from Listening to Fall, available tomorrow on all streaming platforms.

Grass Is Greener
Lyrics by Renata Dos Santos & Denise Hamilton

Autumn fog hanging low in the pines
Coffee riding sh***un, running behind
Curves on Todd one ninety four glowing gold
Radio humming soft and low

Thinking about nothing, eyes on the ridge
Then brake lights flashing around the bend
Heart jumps hard when the shadows move
Black Angus standing in the road

Grass is greener on the other side
That’s what the cattle must’ve had in mind
Standing in the middle of Todd one ninety four
Confused which side had greener pasture

Brake lights glowing in the mountain night
Folks swerving left while the cows drift right
Everybody waiting while she takes her time
Like there ain’t a mess of cars a mile behind

Drivers slowing down with their windows cracked
Trying to photograph the mountain’s back
Farmer’s down the shoulder waving both arms
Yelling “don’t spook ‘em or they’ll run”

Way down low by the bottom wire
One little calf’s still slipping by
Learned real young where the fence hangs weak
And the grass looks greener across the creek

Grass is greener on the other side
That’s what the cattle must’ve had in mind
Standing in the middle of Todd one ninety four
Confused which side had greener pasture

Brake lights glowing in the mountain night
Folks swerving left while the cows drift right
Everybody waiting while she takes her time
Like there ain’t a mess of cars a mile behind

Finally rolling slow past the cattle crowd
Thinking “well, that woke me up somehow”
Then two white shadows come flying fast
Big Pyrenees barking like the road’s their patch

Running full speed down the yellow line
Like every passing car’s a threat tonight
Just when you think the whole thing’s through
Here comes round two coming after you

Maybe we ain’t all that different deep inside
Always thinking something better’s on the other side
Sometimes what you’re chasing leaves you moving too slow
Standing there stranded in the middle of the road

Grass is greener on the other side
That’s what the cattle must’ve had in mind
Standing in the middle of Todd one ninety four
Confused which side had greener pasture

Brake lights glowing in the mountain night
Folks swerving left while the cows drift right
Everybody waiting while she takes her time
Like there ain’t a mess of cars a mile behind.

Listening to Fall now available on all streaming platforms. Spotify link below to Grass Is Greener

https://open.spotify.com/track/0SFEAmxuEFi67E5ef3Ole4?si=YWnyYgxYQny3dAiDWfvLEg&utm_source=copy-link

08/31/2026

Okay Ashe County…who deserves a little love? ❤️

Nominations are open for the 2026 Outrageously Good Customer Service Awards, and instead of telling y’all who to nominate, we’d rather ask you to think about the businesses and people around here who make living in and visiting Ashe County a little better.

Who remembers your name? Who stayed late to help you? Who fixed something they probably didn’t have to fix? Who answered the phone when you were in a bind? Who made you feel welcome when you walked through the door? Who consistently does that little bit more that turns a transaction into a relationship?

Because those are the businesses worth keeping.

And in a small community, one of the best things we can do is make sure the people doing things really well know somebody noticed.

The awards recognize an individual, department or business, so this doesn’t have to be the biggest place, the busiest place or the one with the fanciest sign. If somebody in Ashe County has given you outrageously good customer service, tell their story.

Nominations are due Friday, September 4 at 5 PM.

Nominate your favorite Ashe County business or person here: https://form.jotform.com/262226276349159

And yes, RiverGirl qualifies too. 🤷‍♀️😉 If we happen to be the folks who came to mind while you were reading this, we certainly won’t argue with you.

But mostly, go make somebody’s day. Tell them their work mattered.

Please click the link to complete this form.

08/30/2026

Rivergirl Sunshine Sunday

I’ve been thinking about four words: One Day Is Today. The phrase has already had a little journey of its own. It began as part of a much larger conversation about dreams, timing, fear, and the things we keep postponing until some imaginary future version of ourselves finally feels ready. Then something unexpected happened. People connected with it. Not politely. Not in the casual “that’s nice” kind of way. They began telling us what those words meant to them. Some saw a trip they had been putting off. Some saw a conversation they needed to have. Some saw a change they had been afraid to make. Others simply recognized how easy it is to keep moving the things that matter most into a future that is never guaranteed.

And somewhere in those conversations, something shifted for me too. There have been moments over the past few months when I’ve wondered whether some of what I’ve been writing, creating, and exploring was reaching anyone at all. Whether the message had become too deep, too strange, too far outside what people expected from Rivergirl. Justifying that Rivergirl is more than an outfitter. But doubt is a funny thing. It can make you question the very instinct that led you somewhere meaningful in the first place. Then two women (Stella & Opal, picture attached), walked through our door and reminded me otherwise. They had been reading. Really reading. Going back over pieces more than once, thinking about them, carrying the ideas into their own conversations. And from one of those exchanges came the promise that we would make a bumper sticker: Some Day Is Today.

We made an initial order of 50. Forty-eight were spoken for within 2 hours. So we ordered 100 more. And suddenly the lesson became much larger than a bumper sticker. Sometimes we don’t get confirmation before we begin. Sometimes we have to trust the quiet pull toward an idea long before anyone else tells us it matters. Sometimes human connection becomes the confirmation. A conversation across a counter. A stranger telling you they understood. Someone choosing to carry your words on the back of their car.

Maybe that’s part of what One Day Is Today has come to mean for me. Not simply “do the thing now”, but listen when something inside you keeps asking to be followed. Pay attention when your priorities suddenly come into focus. Trust the ideas that keep returning. And remember that we rarely know how far something we create will travel once another human being sees themselves inside it.

This week, I’m grateful for the people who reminded me to keep listening, and for the strange, beautiful way one person’s instinct can become another person’s invitation.

What is your “one day or some day” that might be asking to become today?